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A Spaceship For The King

Conclusion.

Some problems are insoluble by themselves, but if you've got enough problems they might solve each other.

MacKinnie had barbarians outside the city and Temple guards inside it . . .

JERRY POURNELLE

Synopsis

Prince Samual's World was devas­tated by the Secession War which broke up humanity's First Empire. It has slowly developed technology roughly equivalent to the early Nine­teenth Century but retains traditions of lost scientific achievements. Rede­velopment has been slow, with con­stant warfare among independent city-states and kingdoms.

COLONEL NATHAN MAC­KINNIE, called Iron MacKinnie by his soldiers, has been cashiered from his post as acknowledged best soldier of the Republic of Orleans. Iron Mac­Kinnie and his Wolves repeatedly de­feated the forces of the Republic's powerful neighbor, the Kingdom of Haven, until Prince Samual's World was rediscovered by the renascent SECOND Empire and the Imperial Navy allied with King David of Haven. Using navy space weapons, King David is moving to establish rule over the entire planet.

MacKinnie and his former ser­geant, HAL STARK, overhear a drunken young Imperial Navy officer telling about a primitive planet called MAKASSAR where "they wear iron pants and fight with swords," have no machinery except a First Empire Li­brary which they use as a Temple, not suspecting what the building really is. The officer is also overheard by King David's secret police, whose chief, MALCOLM DOUGAL decides to make use of both the information and MacKinnie. Dougal has found thatthe Empire has several classes of membership based on technological status at the time of incorporation. Only planets having space travel have any real rights; the others become colonies subject to the absolute rule of the Imperial government on Sparta.

The Imperial Navy is fanatically determined to bring all of humanity under Imperial rule to prevent wars like the Secession War, and its policy is to unite mankind without much re­gard for abstractions like freedom and independence. Because the Navy is spread too thin to immediately in­corporate newly discovered planets like Samual and Makassar, the Em­pire allows no technology imports. Thus, although Haven as an Imperial ally has theoretical rights to inter­stellar travel and trade, the Haven traders may not visit planets with more advanced technology or buy from them.

However, Makassar is classed as a primitive world and is on the approved list for trade with Samual. Dougal be­lieves the Imperial bureaucracy has forgotten the Library since the natives cannot use it and it is guarded by a priesthood who believe that God will someday speak from the Temple. Haven needs a military officer, and since the Imperial Navy would know King David's best soldiers, Mac­Kinnie is recruited to head an ex­pedition to Makassar, ostensibly to trade, but actually to bring back knowledge of space technology from the Temple Library. Haven will use this to construct a spaceship so that King David can bring Prince Samual's World into the Empire in one of the higher classifications, thus escaping colonization.

MacKinnie agrees and swears alle­giance to Haven. He and Stark re­cruit several former Wolves as Trader's guards, and Haven supplies other personnel including: JAMIE McLEAN, Haven naval officer posing as a merchant captain; Academi­cian HAROLD LONGWAY, a social scientist with experience among primitives on Samual; Scholar HOMER KLEINST, a brilliant nine­teen year old physics student who poses as Longway's social studies assistant; and Freelady MARY GRA­HAM, daughter of an officer of Haven Secret Police, who will be ex­pedition secretary. There are also ad­ditional guards, including TODD, a Haven officer cadet.

The expedition is taken to Makas­sar by Imperial Traders Association ship, and stranded there for at least a local year when the merchant they are dealing with thinks he has tricked MacKinnie. The Imperial Navy garri­son on Makassar consists of only a handful of men and no ships, and is located on the western edge of the planet's single continent. The city of BATAV, where the Library is located, is thousands of kilometers away across plains overrun with barbarians, while the seas are unsafe because of pirates. The Navy can offer neither trans­portation nor protection, but will pros­ecute MacKinnie for any infraction of the technology regulations. The lieu­tenant in charge on the planet also asks MacKinnie to find out what hap­pened to a group of missionaries who have vanished and are probably dead.

MacKinnie buys the only seaworthy ship in the garrison town, and McLean improves its sailing capa­bilities with leeboards and more ef­ficient sails, neither of which the Im­perials recognize as technological im­provements because they seem so primitive by space-faring standards. With the aid of BRETT, an itinerant singer, and VANJYNK, a dis­possessed nobleman, the expedition outruns and outfights the pirates and manages to sail to BATAV.

They find the city under siege by fierce barbarian plainsmen called mans. Kleinst deduces that the ex­treme axial tilt and elliptic orbit of Makassar is causing climatic devia­tions, bringing the barbarians north to the equator where they attack cities. The Temple priests retain tight control of the city, but have lost their influence across the continent, and are hard pressed to defend the city itself Most of the people of Batav have lost heart and are waiting to be overrun; Brett tells MacKinnie and Mary Gra­ham that if the city falls, the bar­barians will slaughter all the in­habitants and burn the city to the ground.

The Library is guarded by the fa­natical Temple priesthood who permit no one to examine the "holy relics," and MacKinnie is not sure he could make use of the Library even if he had free access; he has reason to suspect that the information is stored in some­thing other than books, but he does not know what.

MacKinnie and his troops are aboard their ship in the harbor of Ba­tav when they are approached by an armed party. The leader calls to him, and MacKinnie realizes he is speak­ing the Imperial language.

Part 3

"Are there any here who under­stand me?" He switched quickly to a local dialect. "Peace and greetings."

"Welcome aboard," MacKinnie answered in what he hoped was the Imperial speech. "And what may I do for Your Honor?"

The man turned to his companion and said something quickly, then looked back at MacKinnie in ob­vious relief. "Thank the Savior, the Navy has come to find us. Our pray­ers have been answered. When we heard there was a ship from Jikar, we hardly dared hope."

MacKinnie stared at the small party. The two leaders were both tall and dark, looking nothing like the locals MacKinnie had seen. Their guards, by contrast, were all obvious locals, probably hired swordsmen of doubtful ability.

"Come aboard, please," Mac­Kinnie said. "May we make your guards comfortable with wine and something to eat?"

"Thank you."

MacKinnie nodded to Todd, sending him scurrying below to find Hal and arrange for refreshments for the guards. The two tall starmen were helped aboard and led to the owner's cabin below. When they were seated and wine brought, they introduced themselves.

"I am Father Deluca, and this is His Lordship Auxiliary Bishop La­raine. We are representatives of His Eminence the Archbishop Ca­steliano, Missionary ruler of the Church on this forsaken planet. It is a miracle that you have found us."

"I do not understand Your Rever­ence," Nathan said. "Surely you have means to call the Navy when­ever you wish?"

"No, my son," Bishop Laraine said sadly. "The barbarians have de­stroyed our transmitter. Brother LeMoyne could have repaired it had they not been so thorough, but we were fortunate to escape with our lives. Two other members of our mission, a brother and a priest, were not so favored, God rest their souls. We made our way to this city, and here we stay, besieged by barbarians, with little gold, no communicator, and afraid even to allow these hea­thens to know our true mission. They burn heretics here, and they believe us to be such. Not that martyrdom is so frightening, but it would hardly accomplish anything for the Faith under the circumstances."

"I would not contradict His Rever­ence," Deluca said, "but in reality these are not heathens. They believe all of the doctrines of the Church, except submission to the authority of New Rome. But they also believe they have a divine inspiration, holy relics, enclosed in that Temple of theirs, and that God speaks to them from their Temple. They even have records showing that their bishops have a direct continuity with the first bishops of Makassar. I believe New Rome might rule that they could be accepted in the Church without new baptism, would their hierarchy only submit to authority."

The bishop shook his head sadly. "What Father Deluca says is true enough, but there is no way to dispel them of their illusions. They truly believe these artifacts of theirs con­tain Holy Writ, which no doubt they do, there being copies of the Bible in the Library I am sure, but they be­lieve their Temple to be a source of continuing and everlasting revela­tion."

"I see," MacKinnie told them. He drained his glass of wine, thinking of what to tell them. Nathan had no ex­perience at lying to the clergy, his contacts with the priestly orders being limited to one or another of the many varieties of military chap­lains who had served with him, and he was vaguely disturbed. He de­cided on a compromise. "I don't like to tell you this, Your Reverence, but only part of your problems have been solved by our arrival. We have no transmitter either." He used the unfamiliar word cautiously, but no one responded. "We do have gold and we can make your stay here more secure, but it will be sometime before we can get you back to Jikar. The storm season is coming on, and my native shipmaster tells me there is no way to sail westward during that part of the yir. We ran before one westerly gale coming in here, and the seas were dreadful. I am told they get worse."

Laraine showed no emotion at the words, but Father Deluca half rose from his seat, only to strike his head on the low deck beams above him. He sat back down with tears in his eyes, as much from disappointment as the blow. "Then we must stay here in this awful place for another year." He sighed heavily.

"As God wills," Laraine said sharply. "Your offer of money is generous, My Lord. His Eminence will be pleased. Will you come with us to tell him?"

"They tell me I should wait until the Temple people come to inspect my cargo," Nathan answered. "After that, I will be honored to meet His Eminence. What does the local priesthood think you are?"

"Merchants despoiled by the bar­barians," Deluca answered. "We thought of fleeing to the nomads and trying to win converts among them, but there are few of us, and the bar­barians never listen before they kill. Even the Temple has ceased to send missionaries among them. His Emi­nence ordered us to remain with him until we were sure there was no chance to win over the Temple hierarchy before sacrificing ourselves." Nathan nodded, filling the wine­glasses again. "You have had no suc­cess at convincing the Temple people that their holy relics are noth­ing more than leftovers from the old Empire?" he asked.

MacKinnie studied the priests closely, thinking that if they had not already lost the device with which they could communicate with the Navy, he would have had to arrange to destroy it. The Navy people must not be reminded of the Library at the same time that they thought of Prince Samual's World. It was only because Makassar was so primitive that they hadn't thought of it al­ready.

Deluca shook his head. "We brought Brother LeMoyne, who is both a librarian and trained in phys­ics, hoping to show them, but they will not let us near their sacred relics. No one but the priesthood can touch them, they say. And we, the repre­sentatives of the true church, are turned away like Pharasees."

The bishop smiled. "There is a certain, ah, humor, in the situation, My Lord. That we are turned away from the center of this planet's reli­gion. Or what was once the center, because their authority is fast going. I think now it would have been bet­ter had we worked in Jikar first, but, of course, we couldn't know that."

Hal knocked at the doorway. "Sir, those deacon people are here to ex­amine the cargo. They say they want to talk to the master of the ship, and also the owner. There're fees to pay for using the harbor, and they want to buy all our food and wine."

Nathan stood, carefully stooping to avoid the deck beams. He had learned that after several painful ex­periences during the voyage. "If you will excuse me, I will speak to the Temple representatives," he told them. "Please feel free to enjoy any of the facilities or refreshments. Your Excellency," he added, bow­ing.

"Drive a hard bargain with them," The bishop growled. He waved dis­missal.

On deck, MacKinnie found three robed Temple deacons, with two uniformed guards officers, while a rank of ten swordsmen stood at rigid attention on the pier below. The guards uniforms were blue and crim­son with silver decorations, the offi­cers' hats plumed, and the Sergeant of Guards carried a gold-headed ba­ton. The discipline of the men, and their weapons, made MacKinnie realize that the Temple commanded a reasonable fighting force. Or, at least, they could obey orders. He wondered why, with their discipline, they had not destroyed the bar­barians. Too rigid in their tactics, he thought, remembering Vanjynk and the battle on the Tide Sands.

One of the officers stepped for­ward from the group around Captain McLean and Crewmaster Loholo. "Are you the owner of this vessel?" he demanded.

MacKinnie nodded. The officer continued, "I present you to His Ex­cellency, Sindabaya, Junior Archdeacon of the Temple of Truth."

"Peace and greetings," one of the gray-robed men said. "It is cus­tomary to bow to me when receiving blessings, Trader. Are you ignorant of the proper forms, or merely a heathen?"

"Your pardon, Excellency," MacKinnie protested. "My thoughts were on the plight of our civilization, and not the more important things at hand." He bowed, receiving another blessing for his trouble.

"It is well. We have not seen you in Batav before, Trader, and when we last saw your shipmaster he had his own ship. Why is this?"

"Pirates, Your Excellency. In all Jikar, there are few merchant ships remaining, and few merchants to buy them, because the army of Jikar takes all the goods for the great ex­pedition. They intend to fight their way through the barbarians before sending the fleet to destroy the nests of pirates."

The officer who had spoken looked up hurriedly, then conversed, in low tones with another robed fig­ure before speaking. "Jikar is not large enough to put forth such an army, or fleet," he said flatly.

"Oh, that is true, sir," MacKinnie said. "But the Guilds have made al­liance with other cities, and many of the people of the plains and hills have fled to Jikar for assistance.

Then, the fleet captured many pirate vessels by surprise when they dared sail too close into the harbor and were left by the tide. The water ran red for two changes of tide after the battle on the sands, and the Guilds had a large fleet, but few with whom to man it. But when their war on the land is finished, they will turn to training the young men to be sailors, and there is talk of bringing the fleet north, east perhaps, bringing many merchant ships under the protection of fifty galleys of war. But, I . . . I thought, what use to go in such a number? Prices will be low, when there are so many goods for sale. But if now, when there are no ships from Jikar, if now I sail to Batav, and east, and south, why, then trading will be better, and my friends will remem­ber me when the great fleet comes ... or so I thought. And I was told that the Great Temple, the home of wisdom itself, was in need, and thus I brought my cargo, and of my food­stuffs, I will sell them to the Temple saving only what must remain to feed my men, and I ask no more than what it has cost me to bring the goods."

The gray-robed men muttered among themselves, and their spokes­man said, "Your piety is noted. What have you for the Temple?"

It took hours to agree on the price of the cargo, despite MacKinnie's in­tention to be generous. The deacons were so accustomed to haggling with traders that even when it was not necessary they bargained and in­spected, poking into the holds and looking in the deck boxes, disputing how much food could be kept for Subao's own consumption and what had to be delivered to the Temple. From their concern with foodstuffs, MacKinnie knew the siege was more serious than the Temple would ad­mit. Despite quantities of staple foods in the granaries, there was hunger in Batav, and the Temple priests were taking all precautions, insisting that every ship which called at their port unload all edibles to augment the city's supply. Loss of Temple influence across the land, and the arrogance of the priesthood, meant that few ships came to Batav in this time of need, and they seized all they could find. When the final bargain was struck, a gang of Temple slaves swarmed aboard, car­rying away what the Temple had purchased, as the soldiers stood guard over them, searching each for stolen goods and weapons. The dea­cons watched coldly noting on wooden-backed slates what was taken and what was left aboard.

As the last of the goods were taken ashore, Sindabaya joined Mac­Kinnie and his staff on the quarter­deck. "We guard more than the true faith," the priest said. He waved his hand to indicate the city and harbor. "For all time that we record, the Temple has been the source of wis­dom and hope for the people of this world. When other cities fall, we bring the means to build them again.

If the Temple falls, what will be the source of knowledge? When God brought men to this place from the stars above, He set the Temple to watch over them and give them truth. That is our burden, and we will not fail."

MacKinnie watched an officer drive one of the slaves into his place in ranks, and said nothing. Sinda­baya noted Nathan's expression and continued, "The world has changed. Once they went singing to their tasks. Ships brought wealth to be laid at the steps of God's Temple. Now few ships come, and the bar­barians wait outside the walls, and my officers beat the convicts as I watch. But there is no other way! They will not work without blows, and the work must be done! The Temple must be saved!" He turned to the group on the deck and raised his hand in blessing, watched them narrowly for a moment, and left the ship.

Deluca climbed carefully to the quarterdeck as MacKinnie watched the Temple party drive men and ayuks, both overloaded, down the stone streets toward the warehouses.

"Now that they have inspected your ship," Deluca said, "it is lawful for you to leave it. Will you visit the Lord Archbishop?"

MacKinnie nodded, selecting Longway, Kleinst, and Todd to accompany them. Deluca assured them that his own merchant's guard would be sufficient, and would escort them back to the ship after their interview.

"But you will need our guards," Deluca told them. "The streets are no longer safe. Thieves have banded together in great numbers, and at­tack even armed men. Our own guards are trustworthy only when to­gether, yet there is nothing to steal and no place to buy food with what gold can be found. The city feels no hope for the future. Only the Temple has the will to fight. The people of the city once ruled much of this world, but now they are ruled by the Temple."

They walked along the broad wa­terfront street, noting the empty dockyards, warehouses with the doors standing open, and everywhere the beggars and crowds of surly men who had once been the longshoremen of Batav, or owners of small farms outside the walls of the city. Away from the waterfront was little better. They moved through a series of narrow twisting streets over­hung with buildings, lined with nearly empty shops. Men lay in rags even in the center of the smaller streets, blocking their way.

They emerged from this maze of alleys to broader streets, each with a stone-lined ditch running down its center. The ditches were partially filled with refuse, but surprisingly little for so primitive a system.

"The men on Temple charity carry away the garbage," Deluca ex­plained, "and bring barrels of water to wash the sewage away in the few dry weeks of the yir. There is heavy ...